Death wasn't loud.
No screaming. No lights flashing before his eyes. No dramatic last thoughts. Just the sound of blood hitting concrete and the fading warmth of life slipping from his chest.
One second, he was shielding a child from a runaway truck. The next, he was floating in pitch black.
And then — he was awake.
Not breathing, not blinking — aware. A strange clarity, like he'd left his flesh behind and only the core of his being remained.
"Interesting," said a voice that didn't echo.
It wasn't male or female. It didn't feel human. It didn't even come from a direction — it simply existed, around him, inside him, through him.
"Another soul who risked everything for someone else. So rare."
The void stirred. Not visually — more like his thoughts trembled under pressure. Something immense was looking directly at his existence.
"What is this?" he asked, or thought he did.
"A meeting. Temporary. Unpredictable," the voice replied. "Call me… Observer, if it comforts you."
"I'm dead."
"You were. Now you're... paused."
A silence passed that wasn't truly silent.
"Would you like to try again?" the voice asked.
His mind reeled. "Try what?"
"Living."
His thoughts froze.
"I'll make it simple," the Observer said. "You may reincarnate. Three gifts. Choose carefully."
"…Like a video game?"
The being seemed amused. "If that's how you understand it, yes. But know this: I don't offer this to many. Most simply dissolve."
"Why me?"
"Because you chose death to save another. That marks you differently than most."
He took a long, imaginary breath.
"Three wishes?"
"Three."
He spoke the first almost instantly. "The power of the Shadow Monarch. From Solo Leveling."
"A curious choice," the Observer mused. "And any twist?"
"Yes. I want to be able to use everything that belongs to my shadow soldiers — their weapons, powers, memories, skills."
"…Accepted."
He felt something etch into his being, a cool burning sensation curling around his essence.
"Second wish," he said. "A simplified system. Just the basics — I want a status screen, a scan function, and an inventory. No clutter. No quests. No endless menus."
"Efficient. Accepted."
Another layer settled into him — like code written onto a soul.
"And the third?"
He hesitated. The final choice mattered more than he could comprehend.
"Doomsday Evolution," he said. "I want to adapt, evolve, mutate when I'm pushed to the brink. When I'm injured or close to death, my body changes to survive whatever threatened me."
The Observer paused — or perhaps the entire void held its breath.
"Accepted," it finally said. "You are… interesting."
A faint hum began to grow in the silence. A warm, pulsing light like a heartbeat in the distance.
"One final note," the voice said. "You will awaken in a world already set in motion. One you may recognize."
"Where?"
"Earth. But not quite your own."
And just like that—
---
He gasped awake.
The breath tore through his lungs like fire. He shot upright, drenched in cold sweat, his heart hammering in his ears. His skin prickled. Muscles spasmed like they hadn't moved in years.
He blinked.
A filthy ceiling greeted him. Cracked drywall. Exposed wiring. A broken fan barely spinning above.
Where…?
He rolled off a sagging cot, bare feet touching concrete. A flickering light bulb dangled from a cord, casting long shadows across the tiny room. The scent of mildew, blood, and rust hit his nose.
A dusty mirror on the wall showed a teenage face. Pale skin, black hair, sharp features. Unfamiliar, but alive.
He reached out.
"Status," he said aloud.
A faint blue screen materialized in the air before him.
---
[STATUS]
Name: [???]
Race: Reincarnated Human
Title: Shadowborn
Age: 17
Shadow Power: 1.00
Strength: 12
Agility: 14
Intelligence: 16
Shadow Storage: 0
Evolution Potential: Dormant
---
His mouth twitched.
"It worked."
He felt it — deep in his core. The shadow energy. Cold. Heavy. But obedient. Like a sleeping beast in his veins.
He clenched his fist, and for a split second, the light in the room dimmed as the shadows beneath the bed twitched unnaturally.
He turned to the door.
---
Two Hours Later — Back Alley, Hell's Kitchen
The man was big, drunk, and mean. Armed with a knife and waving it at a terrified woman in the alleyway.
"Give me the purse, bitch—"
CRACK.
The pipe connected with the mugger's head before he even noticed someone was behind him. He dropped to the ground in a heap.
The woman screamed. But by the time she turned around, the teen in the hoodie was already gone — vanished into the alley's shadows.
He crouched beside the body, breathing slowly.
"Shadow Extraction."
The world went silent. The corpse twitched, then sank into an unnatural, inky blackness.
From it rose a faintly glowing silhouette, eyes glowing violet, kneeling before him.
[Shadow Soldier Created: Thug Lv.1]
"Can you hear me?" he asked.
The soldier nodded once.
"…Do you remember anything?"
A pause. Then the shadow placed a hand on its belt — where a hidden pistol was tucked away.
The boy blinked. "So I can use that too…"
He scanned the soldier. A soft glow lit up his eyes for a second.
---
[Scan Result]
Basic Pistol
Street Combat (Lv.1)
Pickpocketing
Familiarity with Hell's Kitchen layout
---
He chuckled.
"Perfect."
He took the thug's pistol and tucked it into his hoodie. The shadow sank back into the ground, vanishing into his control.
One down. Countless more to go.
He stood, exhaling into the cold night.
From now on, he wouldn't live for others. He'd live for control. Power. Survival.
No one knew his name yet.
But soon?
They'd all learn to fear the one who walks with shadows.
---